


The Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon

by Ardentwench (Kitschdemotic)



Category: South Park
Genre: Craig is hinted at being Demisexual, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 12:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5163242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitschdemotic/pseuds/Ardentwench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Craig wakes up one day and starts noticing things that add up to how he might just be in love with Tweek.</p><p>“And just like that suddenly Craig was noticing everything.    </p><p>Like how Tweek was warm, and comfortable, and important, and sooo goddamn beautiful.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a reworking of something I wrote way back in 2010. It’s still a bit cheesy but it’s cute and I felt it deserved to be redone into something decent.
> 
> It isn’t said directly, or explicitly explored in the text, but I did have in mind Craig being Demisexual when I was writing this.
> 
> Title taken after the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, also known as “frequency illusion,” where you become aware or informed about something and soon after start noticing it everywhere. The concept loosely describes Craig's situation and I'm not good with titles.
> 
> This story has not been beta'd.

 

 

Prologue

 

 

-

 

He feels like an idiot.

One who complained about the room being dark when really the light had been turned on the whole time, he’d just been too stupid to open his eyes and actually see. It was like he’d woken up one day with a switch flipped inside of him, with his eyes actually open, noticing the little things.

Things like the texture of Tweek's hair, the many cowlicks twisting his roots. The barely there scars on his palms from where he’d dug in his ragged nails a bit too hard during a panic, and the ones littering his fingers and the back his hands from attempts at assembling modeling kits and other crafts while shaking too hard.

He also noticed other things centered about himself, like how no matter how long him and Clyde had appropriated the title of best friends, they didn’t really act like it anymore. Clyde preferred to vent to the more empathetic Token, and spent his spare lone time on dates and chasing crushes. When they all weren’t hanging out together Craig spent more of his individual time with Tweek then he did alone.

How when he added new music to his iPod he selected songs Tweek might like, songs that would help Tweek fall asleep when he inevitably stole his music player before bed, letting the music wash over him until he zoned out enough that sleep took him.

How his daily routine primarily revolved around Tweek's schedule, Tweek's needs, because he wanted it to, chose it to. How his morning and evening and nightly thoughts filled another square of cliche bingo with how often they revolved around the blonde's voice. How he brought spare snacks and food and drinks other than coffee with him everywhere on the chance to slip it into Tweek's hands. The way he enjoys listening to Tweek, from his pattern of speech, the cracks and stutters and slight vibrations in his voice when he talks, to the little sounds he makes that fluctuate in pitch and tone depending on the situation and circumstance.

How he was more physical with Tweek than anyone else, because Tweek didn’t like to be touched by many people, and yet he still thrived for the physical contact and it was something Craig didn’t mind providing. He even enjoyed it, because sometimes even he needed a lingering hug or the comfort of another body pressed into his side during a movie, and Tweek wasn’t comically clingy like Clyde and didn’t feel the need to talk about it like Token.

He was suddenly overwhelmed with noticing these things in a way he’d never considered them, taking note of his own reactions and the meaning behind his actions that he’d never paused to evaluate.

All because he’d woken up one night with Tweek in his bed after a long night of playing video games and helping Tweek recover from a rather rough panic attack he’d had at school over their impending graduation, the blonde spread out half over Craig’s bed and half over Craig himself.

The faint sounds of music coming from a loose earbud that escaped Tweek’s ear and nestled between them on the pillows, along with the slightly louder purr of Tweek’s faint snores, had greeted him as he’d blinked awake. Sleep took it’s time releasing it’s hold on him, but he’d been content to lay there a bit longer, wrapped in Tweek’s warm lanky limbs, taking inventory of the light dust of pale freckles on paler skin and watching the rare sight of Tweek sleeping deeply, his lashes fluttering softly and the tell tale movement of his eyeballs flickering behind closed lids.

Tweek made a noise in his sleep, a humming whine deep in his throat and Craig instinctively held him tighter, feeling the muscles under the layers of soft skin tense and relax before Tweek became completely silent again with a soft sigh.

And just like that suddenly Craig was noticing everything.    

Like how Tweek was warm, and comfortable, and important, and sooo goddamn beautiful.

 


	2. Sleeping Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig wakes up one day and starts noticing things that add up to how he might just be in love with Tweek.
> 
> “And just like that suddenly Craig was noticing everything. 
> 
> Like how Tweek was warm, and comfortable, and important, and sooo goddamn beautiful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a reworking of something I wrote way back in 2010. It’s still a bit cheesy but it’s cute and I felt it deserved to be redone into something decent.
> 
> It isn’t said directly, or explicitly explored in the text, but I did have in mind Craig being Demisexual when I was writing this.
> 
> Title taken after the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, also known as “frequency illusion,” where you become aware or informed about something and soon after start noticing it everywhere. The concept loosely describes Craig's situation and I'm not good with titles.
> 
> This story has not been beta'd.

 

Chapter 1

Sleeping Beauty

 

- 

 

Tweek was beautiful.

He was beautiful in an oddly androgynous way that made Craig’s toes curl when his thoughts lingered too long on where under those disarrayed clothes he might find soft curves leading into stretches of flat angles.

Once the thought had occurred to him it kept cropping back up. He was suddenly aware of all the little things that made up Tweek. With every nervous tic, stutter, quiet proof of competence, crooked smile, and glimpse of the pale prominent collarbone, Craig was reminded of how attractive Tweek was, how beautiful he found him. It was like his brain had become biased, only wanting to point out Tweek this, Tweek that, Tweek everything, and it made him suddenly aware of how much his day to day life involved the blonde. All he could do was accept the fact he’d sprung more awkward boners just being around Tweek in the last month than he had in all the years together since he’d hit puberty.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t silently observed the contours of Tweek’s body before his revelation. He’d honestly observed everyone around him, especially those of his friends he spent his time with. It came with the package of trying to quietly figure out your own sexuality and if you were broken or not because you couldn’t get as equally enthused about sex or dirty mags with voluptuous models the way your peers did. He’d easily decided he wasn’t broken, he just wasn’t straight, nor particularly attracted to most individuals. He’d come to accept this fact as early as 8th grade, marking it off as having higher standards than what South Park had to offer.

Logically he knew this must be why he was caught off guard by the sudden unrelenting attraction he felt for his friend. He had just been reaching the point of no longer expecting to develop a real attraction to anyone that went beyond aesthetics and now he was finding himself needing to stock up on tissue and lotion to the point Ruby had bothered to ask if he was coming down with a cold.

Being kept awake by lust actively pumping through his veins was new and exciting and it was an odd sort of adrenaline rush to grow accustomed to. He’d dated a few people he thought were undeniably pleasing to the eye, had even slept with a few of them because he could. Despite actually doing it, he’d never earnestly wanted to jump them or even kiss them in the ways he’s been imagining doing to Tweek for the last month.

Now he spent long minutes watching his friend, wondering how he could of missed coming to the realization that he was so thoroughly attracted to him. That he wanted him. That he liked him, fuck, loved him.

He’d always thrived for a normal childhood. South Park, no matter how small it was, had always felt too big, too crazy for him. He was Craig Tucker though, a child of South Park, and now as a budding adult he couldn’t deny that he was, by average society’s definition, not “normal.” Then again, he wasn’t sure you could call anyone from South Park completely 100% normal.

He imagines he would still like Tweek even if the blonde were more normal, but he doesn’t think he’d choose him that way over how he actually is. He’s always made a point to reassure Tweek that he’s perfectly fine as is and he’s not about to change his opinion on the subject.

Realizing he’s in love with Tweek feels surprisingly normal, and Craig isn’t sure if it’s just how much he’s adjusted to what “normal” regularly constituted as in South Park but he’s not going to fight it when it makes him feel right to acknowledge the feeling.

Though acknowledging it is easier than acting on it he’s discovering. At war with himself he finds he both never wants to let anyone, especially Tweek, see the truth and also wants to just indulge himself in the feel of Tweek's skin against his mouth already.

He tries not to let the realization change things until he can either gain the courage to do something or get over it altogether. It must be harder than he initially thought because his friends are starting to notice, he can tell. Even the ones he only talks to on occasion, like Kenny and Christophe, have been giving him side eyed glances and offhand comments that he chooses to ignore with his customary flippant middle finger. This has to be a sign that he isn’t concealing his emotions very well, something that he used to pride himself on being good at.

Fingering the yellow poof on the top of his hat he glances around Token’s game room. Clyde is passed out already on the floor amidst dozens of wrappers and empty sauce packets, having ate himself into a taco coma an hour prior. In a bean bag beside him the glow of the TV illuminates Token as he plays his preferred video game. Something cool to the touch bats at his hand and he glances over as Tweek’s hand wraps around his, tugging his fingers away from his hat.

“You’re going to break it off if you keep playing with it.” Tweek says, his body vibrates ever slightly, but he’s overall calm in a way that Craig's grown accustomed to only seeing during quiet, more private moments.

“That’s what she said.” Clyde mumbles, his face still planted squarely into the floor, not as fast asleep as Craig had assumed. He doesn’t gift Clyde with a response, though Token snorts without looking up and Tweek rolls his eyes.

He notices the shading under Tweek’s eyes looking darker than the night before, he has a strange urge to swipe his thumb over them as if the dark rings might disappear along with the other effects of Tweek’s sleep deprivation if he tried to wipe them away.

“Your hands are cold.” He comments instead, turning his hand over to wrap around the paler fingers. Tweek bites his lip, a small squeak stifled behind his teeth. He doesn’t pull away and Craig reaches for the other hand also, setting the empty coffee mug in its grasp onto the floor at their feet.

Token glances over his shoulder at them. Craig ignores him and the knowing smile in favor of rubbing warmth into Tweek’s hands. Token turns back to his game and a soft snore begins to rise from Clyde’s direction.

Craig isn’t actually sure that Token and Clyde, or anyone else, are suddenly noticing he has a crush because he’s acting differently. Because to be honest this type of behavior isn’t new between him and Tweek. It’s natural and to be expected, and he’s starting to come to the realization that maybe he’s the last to notice these things about himself, about them.

Tweek makes little satisfied noises in his throat, his eyes growing heavy as he relaxes into Token’s fancy plush couch. He blinks a bit harder then necessary to clear the more inappropriate thoughts from his head as he rubs his own fingers along Tweek’s gently calloused ones. When he’s completely satisfied with the impromptu hand massage he tugs Tweek closer to him on the couch, rearranging their unzipped sleeping bags until they are layered snugly around them both. The room is decently heated and it won’t take long for their body heat to add up.

By the time Token turns the game system off with a yawn Craig is watching Tweek sleep. The lanky teen is curled up into his side as Craig rests against the arm of the couch. Token barely spares them a glance before locating Clyde’s sleeping bag and unzipping it, tossing it over the prone body and shoving the stray pillow a few feet away under his head.

“I’m going to my bed, I’ll see you guys for breakfast.” Token murmurs through a yawn as he walks passed the couch towards the hall.

Craig doesn’t bother looking up or responding, instead he focuses on ignoring the way his heart wants to leap into his throat at the fact Token doesn’t bat an eye at them. He’s blatantly staring at Tweek like a guardian creeper and yet it's just another Craig and Tweek interaction to everyone else. It's such a simple domesticity that had happened so gradually, organically, and feels so natural that Craig can't fathom why the progression of their relationship had never crossed his mind before.

It all added up to yet another convincing argument to prove this is expected, this is normal for them, it’s something everyone’s seen a mile away except him. He wonders if Tweek knows. If he does he obviously doesn’t mind.

He wonders if Tweek might feel the same, the pessimistic part of him says he probably doesn’t, that he’s probably abusing Tweek’s trust by bringing in undisclosed emotions and perverted thoughts. The more reasonable part of his mind that sounds suspiciously like Token calls him an idiot and tries to convince him that it’s probable Tweek could like him back. Every Time over the past four weeks when his confidence gets high he’s struck with the fear that perhaps Tweek hasn’t made the same realizations about their friendship yet and it keeps him from making a real move in case he’ll scare the blonde away.  

He’d ask for advice and opinions from Token or Clyde, or hell, even Jimmy or Kenny, but he doesn’t really want to. Either because he doesn't really want to know the answer or because he doesn’t want to be called an idiot ,he’s not really sure. It’s probably both.

With the light from the TV gone all that's left to see by is the glow of light streaming in through the curtains from the stars and outdoor lamps. Tweek’s blonde hair spans across Craig’s shoulder and chest, the cast of shadows contouring his features helping him appear much more innocent in his sleep then his paranoid mind had to be. Lifting a nervous hand Craig touches the curve of the blonde’s jaw line, sliding his fingers over the shape of his face, and dragging them down his neck. He's starting to sound like a sap and he's not sure he's entirely comfortable with the fact. 

He wonders what it would like to repeat these actions while Tweek was awake. He’d adjusted Tweek's hair enough times he doubts Tweek would be overly concerned with Craig reaching for his head, unless he was completely caught unaware. Would he stop mid sentence when he realized Craig's hand was hovering above his freckles? Would he get flustered if Craig ran his thumb soothingly over the bags beneath his eyes? Would he blush, turning the skin under Craig's touch warm?

He drops his hand. He doesn't want to move away from Tweek completely, dismayed at the idea of accidentally waking the young man who had surprisingly fallen asleep without the aid of Craig's music. It was more than obvious that Tweek needed all the sleep he could get, between insomnia and nightmares his sleeping pattern had been wrecked since their childhood. Knowing how much of a problem Tweek had getting decent rest would be more of a concern for Craig if he didn't already have a routine of punctual sleepovers that put Tweek in a comfortable environment where he could feel safe enough to drown out his thoughts and fears with the help of Craig's iPod. It had never felt like a chore to help guarantee Tweek managed enough rest to keep him functioning. The same went with how Tweek went days without a proper appetite and would often psych himself out of eating food from sources he couldn't bring himself to 100% trust. Craig hadn't even realized he’d started casually feeding the blonde until it had become an ingrained habit to supply Tweek with enough sustenance to keep him in a decent form of health.

Tweek's forehead wrinkles in time with the little twitches his small mouth makes as he dreams and Craig's lifts his hand  back up. He hesitates before giving in and pushing Tweek's bangs back away from the thin sheen of sweat forming, trying to soothe away the tension.

Tweek's brow furrows slightly, his chin lifting as he nudges the top of his head gently against Craig's palm. His lips part, little wet noises escape from the back of his throat and Craig presses his own lips tight together. He can feel his head waver, swaying dangerously low, down into Tweek’s breathing space. He wants to think he’s more noble than this, but if he’s honest with himself he’s never pretended to be a knight; he’d always been good at playing a thief.

Tweek's mouth, when their lips touch is warm. It's soft despite the imperfect texture from being chapped and chewed, and although he doesn't see fireworks Craig’s heart is beating hard enough he imagines it might burst in his chest like one.

He hovers there, their lips pressed innocently enough together in a stolen kiss. He tries to keep his breathing light, measured. The angle it takes to keep his head bowed for the kiss strains his neck but Craig is irrationally afraid to pull back. Despite being situationally aware of his surroundings, of Clyde’s wispy snoring, or the empty darkness enveloping them, he’s nervous he’ll end the kiss only to be confronted by accusations and unwelcome reality.

Tweek's breath puffs between them and it still smells like his earlier coffee, but when Craig gives in and allows his tongue to adventure across the blondes lips he discovers he only tastes like warm skin. For once Craig finds the taste attractive, enjoys it. He doesn't linger though, ghosting his mouth across the curve of pale cheek, over Tweek’s temple, across his eyebrow, and back again until the corners of their mouths meet. His stomach does little twists and flips and he can't help but smile.

 _Butterflies_ , he thinks, _oh_.

It’s not the first time Tweek’s made him feel this way, but it is the first time he’s recognizing the sensation for what it is. He attempts to suppress the widening upturn of his lips by pushing them against Tweek's cheek with the gentlest of pressure. A soft flutter brushes below his eye and he freezes. The soft angles of the blonde shift against him and Craig pulls away as smoothly as he can muster when his first reaction is to tear himself away from the guilty proximity. Inches beneath his face familiar green eyes, foggy with sleep and dulled by shadows, flutter open with a few faint twitches.

“Craig?” The word comes out tiny, the questioning fluctuation cracking within the hiccup of a waking gasp.

Time doesn’t quite go still, but he does feel himself blinking long and slow as he watches Tweek’s vision adjust. He doesn’t find his voice until Tweek’s pink lips twist in an attempt to form a small shaky smile.

“Yeah?” He whispers, his mouth feeling dry.

Tweek doesn’t respond for a long moment and the muscle in Craig’s neck is starting to cramp but it’s hard to will himself away from the simple intimacy of their intermingling breaths when Tweek's eyes are looking up at him so trustingly, his body still soft with sleep. Finally he lets out a hum that is clearly an indication of his drowsy contentment and Craig swallows in an attempt to wet his throat.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispers when Tweek still hasn't spoken up before asking, “Do you need me to get the iPod?”  

Tweek gives a small jerk of his head that could've been just another twitch but Craig understands it for ‘no’. Another few seconds tick by in silence with Tweek staring back at him until the blonde yawns, his upper teeth digging into his bottom lip as he tries and fails to stifle the action, his nostrils flaring and eyes scrunching closed. Craig finds it unflattering at worst and adorable at best. Then Tweek’s blinking away the glossiness of moisture the yawn left in his eyes, and Craig feels his fingers clenching in the strands of blonde hair still against his palm when a surge of want coils low in his belly.

“Your heartbeat works just as good.” Tweek suddenly murmurs, his lips barely moving.

It takes Craig an embarrassing second to focus on understanding what Tweek is saying. He feels himself heating up at the admission of his heartbeat alone being enough to lull Tweek to sleep when not much else they’ve tried can help. The way Tweek's eyes tiredly flit over his cheeks is telling, he knows Tweek is tracking his rising blush. Interestingly enough he’s not embarrassed of the way his cheeks flush, he’s too busy feeling oddly proud and satisfied with the new information.

About to pull Tweek more snugly against his chest and work their bodily alignment into something more comfortable he’s caught off guard when Tweek surges up, lips landing cool against the warmth of Craig’s cheek. He wants to say _what_ , and _why_ , and _okay_ , but his brain wisely doesn’t translate the thoughts into words and the lips continue, dragging slowly across his skin until the corners of their lips come into contact. Craig skips the cliche hesitation, turning into them, chasing after them with his mouth until they slide together.

The kiss isn’t especially urgent, or heated, or even magical in the way a Harlem romance might describe. It is slow though, and warm, and a bit harder than soft but it makes his toes curl, his spine tingle, and a sigh of contentment escape into Tweek’s mouth when their tongues finally slide against each other.

It feels good, feels perfect.

Tweek falls away first with a soft sigh, his head falling back into the plush couch before he readjusts, squirming into a different position, nuzzling himself better into the crook of Craig's arm and his head against his chest. Craig moves with him, folding them around each other and pulling him in tight, their legs hooking easily around each other and Tweek’s arm grasping him across his waist like he's a life size teddy bear.

A few minutes later when the blankets are pulled tight and he looks down at Tweek’s face it’s easy to tell he’s already asleep again. A small flicker of a twitch pulls at the blonde’s brow, the corner of his lips damp with spit.

Closing his eyes Craig attempts some rest of his own, feeling sure that Tweek will get his much needed sleep. He doesn’t even worry about if Tweek will remember any of this in the morning, or what new lines they’ll be forced to discuss crossing. He isn’t sure what exactly just happened, or what might happen later, but he is sure he’s never been left so explicitly pleased and so he lets himself bask in how content he feels in that very moment, cradling Tweek against him, not even minding the wet patch slowly forming on his shirt where Tweek’s crooked smile presses into him.

 


	3. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig wakes up one day and starts noticing things that add up to how he might just be in love with Tweek.
> 
> “And just like that suddenly Craig was noticing everything.
> 
> Like how Tweek was warm, and comfortable, and important, and sooo goddamn beautiful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a reworking of something I wrote way back in 2010. It’s still a bit cheesy but it’s cute and I felt it deserved to be redone into something decent.
> 
> It isn’t said directly, or explicitly explored in the text, but I did have in mind Craig being Demisexual when I was writing this.
> 
> Title taken after the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, also known as “frequency illusion,” where you become aware or informed about something and soon after start noticing it everywhere. The concept loosely describes Craig's situation and I'm not good with titles.
> 
> This story has not been beta'd.

 

Chapter 2

Awakening

 

- 

 

The next morning Craig had woken up alone on the couch.

He was surprised that he hadn’t felt Tweek jerk awake or heard teasing laughter from his friends. Sitting up he looks over to where Clyde had been and finds an empty nest of taco wrappers and bedding. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he grabs a clean shirt and his jeans from where he’d unceremoniously thrown his night bag the afternoon before. He makes a stop off in one of the bathrooms on the way to the kitchen, splashing water on his face after washing his hands and changing his clothes. He leaves his pajama pants and damp night shirt in the hamper, knowing they’ll manage to appear clean and folded for him before he leaves. Continuing on his way to breakfast he’s a bit disappointed he didn’t get to witness Tweek blush and sputter in embarrassment at realizing he’d drooled a small puddle on Craig while asleep.  

He’s almost at the kitchen door when he feels the weight of his phone vibrate within his jeans. Reaching after it he winds up pulling it out in a tangled mess with his iPod and chargers. The screen is lit up with a new text notification which he taps with his thumb as he shoves the spare cords back into his pocket. The text log opens and the first thing he sees is the picture that loads. Below the picture, next to the icon of Clyde’s face, is the teasing “Awwwwe” he’d been expecting to wake up to.

The picture is of clear quality and Craig idly wonders if it had originally been taken by Token with his nicer phone. The shot captures him and Tweek sleeping from an aerial angle, another reason to expect the taller Token had managed to snap it, the early morning light casting highlights over their faces, making Tweek’s hair look more golden than normal, and the angles of their faces softer. They look far from modelesque though, the array of tangled limbs, rumpled clothes, and bed head, topped off with Tweek’s mouth hanging open wetly, gives off a homely realistic aesthetic. He immediately forms a soft spot for the image.

It’s only the years of stubborn physical apathy he’s developed to survive growing up in South Park which keeps his face expressionless upon entering the kitchen with his eyes still examining the picture. When he reaches the table he finally looks up, shoving the phone back into his pocket he flips Clyde and his stupid smirk off before helping himself to the stack of waffles in the center of the table and taking a seat, refusing to give his friend the satisfaction of a bigger reaction.  

Before Clyde can swallow his mouthful and say something dumb Craig unravels the earbuds on his iPod and pops them in before grabbing the bottle of syrup, hoping it’s taken as a clear sign that he didn’t wake up in a miraculously talkative or interactive mood. They eat in relative silence, Clyde keeping his mouth shoveled full of food and Tweek helping Token solve the childish riddles and games on the back of the cereal boxes. Craig focuses on eating and not on how he sort of wants to set the picture to his phones wallpaper.

When his plate is almost empty and his stomach satisfied he continues to not look up. Instead he uses his fork to push around the few bits of soggy waffle left in the river of excess syrup. A hand against his shoulder startles him and the way he jerks his head up knocks one of the ear buds loose. It lands on his plate silently, the sticky syrup breaking it’s fall.

“Agh! Sorry!” Tweek cries, grabbing for both a napkin and the sticky bud. His hands are shaking, but not violently and Craig wonders how many coffee’s he’s managed to down since waking up. He wonders if Tweek was shown the photo too.

He stays silent. Reaching for his glass of water to dip the napkin into he notices that somewhere in the ten minutes he’s been sitting at the table Clyde and Token have wandered off. Tweek is trying to wipe futilely at the sticky residue with the dry napkin and Craig grabs his wrist, guiding it to where he steadily holds his water and Tweek gets the hint, wetting the napkin before turning back to the task at hand. Craig lets the wrist go, sets his glass back down, and waits patiently until Tweek is satisfied with his work.

Tweek’s lips quirk up as he inspects the cleaned piece, his hands having gone from shaking to vibrating and Craig reaches to take it back from him but Tweek doesn’t let go. Instead his fingers roll over Craig’s tanner ones until he’s the one guiding their hands. He watches as Tweek scoots his chair closer and leans in, leading their hands underneath his mass of unruly blonde hair and to his ear before letting go. Craig inserts the bud securely, expecting that was what Tweek wanted.

He watches Tweek as best he can within their close proximity. The blonde chews on his lip, his eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of concentration and confusion, his head bowed in a way that makes his hair tickle Craig’s cheek. It only lasts for a couple seconds before Tweek starts with a small yelp, pulling back a fraction to look at Craig directly. Craig doesn’t find a reason to bother pretending he wasn’t staring, there’s not really a need to. Instead he quirks an eyebrow in question.

Tweek’s eyes shine with a startled curiosity as he exclaims, “You’re not listening to anything?” Then in a split second, “Gah! Did I go deaf!?” Before Craig can have a chance to answer him Tweek reaches up and tugs on his own unoccupied ear, continuing to freak out, “Are you listening to something?! Craig! Say something, I need to know if I can-!” Craig slips his hand over Tweek’s mouth firmly, cutting him off mid rant.

His other hand lifts to fidget with the side of his hat, amusement breaking out across his face and into his voice. “You’re not deaf Tweek, you hear me now right?” He asks.

Tweek nods against his palm and Craig can feel the sheepish grin form against his palm. He pulls harder on his hat and let’s his hand slip down and away from Tweek’s mouth to reach for his iPod.

“Here.” He says turning it on to a random playlist. The music starts up and Tweek lets out a breath he must of been holding and hums to the tune, he’s still sitting close enough that his breath hits Craig’s face. The smell of sweet coffee is strong, familiar, and he’d be grateful for the way he isn't blushing if not for how he feels his blood pulling lower instead, his pants tightening at an embarrassing speed.

He gives the side of his hat one more tug before dropping his arm in his lap for coverage. Tweek makes a noise between a snort and a hiccup as he reaches over to straighten Craig’s hat from where it’d become pulled askew. Lowering his gaze away Craig tries not to react abnormally as he feels Tweek's fingers push a couple stray hairs back above his ear before patting his hat back into place.

His attention falls across Tweek’s abdomen where the sloppily fastened buttons leave gaps that expose smooth skin whenever Tweek fidgets, which is more often than not. The sight doesn’t help distract him from his growing arousal and he clears his throat, pressing pause on the player just as a louder song starts up. He considers asking what Clyde and Token are up to.

“If you’re done eating,” Tweek speaks up, “We can join the guys out back, Clyde wanted to invite a few other guys over to throw a ball around.” He says.

Tweek removes his earbud to hand back to Craig and continues, “I told them we’d meet them outside to wait when you were done.”

“Oh. Okay.” Craig says, turning his iPod off and removing his own earbud, winding the wires around the player. When he’s done pocketing it he looks up and finds himself a bit caught off guard by how close Tweek is still hovering.

There’s a soft smile on Tweek’s lips and his head is tilted as he watches Craig in a way that isn't quite analyzing or like he’s waiting. The expression doesn't look nervous, or worried, or anything but calm, content, as he stares and so Craig stares back. Normally he wouldn't of cared if Tweek was watching him because Tweek did that sometimes, as if to convince himself the people around him were real and safe. This isn't like one of those times. It’s different yet Craig gets the impression it’s not an entirely new look. It doesn’t feel strange and Craig doesn’t get the urge to tell him to stop and yet he also can't ignore it.

In a smooth move Tweek catches his hands and holds them. Craig notices Tweek isn't shaking, or even vibrating, his hands feeling solid around his own.

And then Tweek moves closer, landing a confident kiss onto Craig's mouth, waiting for him to kiss back before pulling away and standing, tugging Craig up with him by the hands in a fluid movement. Letting himself be pulled to his feet Craig finds himself pressed up against Tweek's chest and looks carefully for any signs of regret or doubt but all he can see is a shy smile and a fond satisfied glint to his eyes.

“Come on.” Tweek says, stepping back and letting one of Craig's hands go. Craig watches Tweek turn, he's still trying to wrap himself around the short kiss as Tweek takes a few steps towards the door.

“Okay,” he says despite not letting Tweek's tug on his hand move him. When he tugs back in retaliation Tweek lets himself easily be pulled back until he’s close enough Craig barely has to lean in to touch their lips. The kiss is longer than the last but it’s just as simple, as chaste, and when they separate Tweek is grinning goofily.

“Okay,” Craig repeats, and it feels as if he’s solidifying more than just his acceptance to go outside. The way Tweek shuts his eyes for a long slow blink, giving a hum of approval, gives Craig the impression that the interpretation is mutual.

When the blonde reopens his eyes his grin twitches and he once again steps away, walking backwards as he drags Craig along with him into the hall.

Craig doesn't look directly away from Tweek but he does take note of the freshly topped off coffee cup Tweek has left forgotten on the table. He’s careful not to alert Tweek to this fact and he can’t help but feel smug when hours later Tweek is helping him wrap a sprained ankle he’d received from an over enthusiastic tackle by Clyde, and Tweek is only just noticing the lack of coffee in a thirty foot radius.

After Craig had been properly patched up, and Tweek had a fresh cup of coffee in his hands, Tweek leaned into his side and watched the rest of the game in relaxed contentment. For the first ten minutes Craig had attempted to watch as well but soon gave up, caving into the temptation of watching Tweek instead because Tweek was warm, and comfortable, and important, and sooo goddamn beautiful.

  


-End-

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name for this chapter was taken from the title of the musical number that plays in Disney's animated Sleeping Beauty when True Loves Kiss works on Aurora.


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